


The Light In His Eyes

by ununoriginal



Category: NewS (Band)
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-12
Updated: 2009-02-12
Packaged: 2017-12-15 01:12:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ununoriginal/pseuds/ununoriginal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why Yamapi surprise-guested on Shounen Club. Takki-voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Light In His Eyes

It's because he wants to see the light that shines in your eyes.    
  
I asked him to, he says, for the benefit of the audience, and so he couldn't decline, but this hasn't been the first time he's popped over in the middle of a Shounen Club recording to catch up with me.  He always manages to respectfully weasel his way out of such spontaneity, too self-conscious under the spotlight to be fully comfortable without proper lines and direction.  
  
I haven't met him as much in recent months, and that may be why the differences seem even more evident.  
  
The lightness about him, in the slight spring of his step as we walk to the wings of the stage, in the openness of his gestures as he elaborates his speech.  The careless way he throws his head back and laughs out loud when he says something silly.  The fact that he _voluntarily_ says something silly, in front of the cameras.  
  
There is a relaxedness in the way he carries himself, as if the weight of the world and the opinions of bystanders are no longer such a burden upon his shoulders.  He stands tall and confident, but the pose is no longer his armour, shielding him from scrutiny.  
  
I remember the boy who used to stand stage left, his hands clenched in fists as he took a deep breath before striding out under the spotlights, head defiantly held high.  Now I look back over my shoulder, barely noticing the screaming, near-hysterical audience, to see the man unself-consciously trying to turn a half-stumble into a skip as he steps past you to stand in front of the audience.  
  
I don't feel the remoteness any more.  There are always barriers we put up, whenever we enter the limelight, even for the most outgoing and gregarious of us, but the boundaries about his person seem to have softened, become more subtle.  He's no longer shutting out the world, keeping it at a distance.  
  
I like the Yamapi that he has become.  I like the eagerness with which he moves forward, as if he can't bear to linger a moment further in the shadows when you are so near.  I like the unhesitating ease when he leans close to whisper in your ear, the natural way your arm brushes his back, how he instinctively shifts to sit nearer to you and you to him, so that your knees and feet almost touch.  
  
I enjoy the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling as he grins like the dork that he is, the seamless flow of question and answer between you and him.    
  
He automatically turns to look at you as he speaks.  There's no tension, no true embarrassment when he mistakes 'Nabe Party' for 'Home Party'.  He's carefree, safe.  He's right where he wants to be.  
  
He just dropped by in the middle of recording, and I asked him, 'Hey, want to give them a surprise?'  There's no other response but to make an appearance, is there, he says as he meets your gaze.  But I see the silent meaning to the words you exchange.  
  
It's there in the way he smiles, when he sees the light in your eyes.


End file.
